"Livie!" Archibald called up the staircase in search of his sister. He glanced at his pocketwatch; at this rate they wouldn't make it to De Rosier's dinner party before the final course was set. "If you make me wait in the carriage with mother a minute more, both you and her ladyship are walking to Fifth Avenue," he shouted as he took the winding steps two at a time until he reached the third floor landing outside Olivia's room.

The door hung ajar; Olivia stood at the foot of her bed fully dressed, her hands worrying the lace ring purse looped over her belt.

"What are you doing?" Archibald said, exasperated. He gestured to her person and the emerald green gown that sat off her shoulders. "You're dressed! Get your coat, and let's go."

"I can't go," Olivia said with a shuddering sob.

"You look fine," Archibald said crossing to place calming hands on his sister's shoulders.

"I don't care how I look." A sniffle. "I can't show my face at Harry De Rosier's townhouse. I just can't"

Archibald's dark brows pushed together in confusion. He had no idea why Olivia would say such a thing, but he was starting to worry she'd inherited her mother's flare for dramatics. "The invitation was for all of us. He even sent a note this afternoon that he was eager to see both you and I tonight."

Olivia finally looked up from her hands. "You don't understand," she said. Her blue eyes glimmered with the threat of tears.

"Make me," Archibald said. He caught one of her tears with a knuckle before it could leave a trail in the pearlescent pink powder she'd dabbed on her cheeks.

"I've ruined, perhaps forever, our relations with Harry De Rosier."

Archibald had to stifle a laugh. "What? When?" The thought of Harry, the most affable man in New York, turning his back on any acquaintance seemed quite improbable.

"He stopped by this morning. I was so awful to him," Olivia said, smoothing down the lapels of Archibald's jacket. "I yelled at him; I said the most hurtful things—"

"Livie?" Archibald said, holding his sister at arm's length so he could get a better look at her. "What did you say?"

"That it's his fault we are here in New York because he put the idea in your head. And I called the house he picked ugly." Olivia's gaze fell to the floor.

Archibald's hands dropped to his sides. "Livie," he said. He didn't bother to disguise the disappointment in his voice. "How could you say such things?"

Another sniffle. "It's so hard being here — never knowing if we'll see England again—"

Archibald crossed his "But Harry? Of all people, you blamed Harry? He's been far kinder to us than any of our London acquaintances were, and he insists on inviting you everywhere he invites me! I wish you would have yelled at me — in fact, I wanted you to! I have barely gotten more than ten words out of you since we set sail from Liverpool. And then you yell at Harry, who has so generously concerned himself with personally ensuring our happiness here?"
"I know!" Olivia fisted her hands and pressed them to her brow. "I felt terrible the moment I said it. So you see — I can't go."

Archibald wrapped an arm around Olivia's waist and steered her towards the door. "No. You're going."

"But—"

"You don't have to speak to him tonight, but I'm not letting you hide from him."
They descended the stairs and Archibald helped Olivia into her coat. He threw her fur muff at her when she scowled at him, but she caught it with ease. She marched down the walk to the carriage and Archibald followed behind.

"You'll have to apologize, of course," he said to the back of her head. "And at least try to like it here!"

She threw a glare over her shoulder at him and suddenly she was the wonderful, entertaining, and annoying little sister he knew and loved. He smiled. He would take angry Olivia over silent Olivia any day.

After a short ride, they arrived at Harry De Rosier's Fifth Avenue townhouse. Every window of the four-story brownstone glowed with an inviting warmth. Inside, a footman took their coats and furs and directed them to the parlor full of boisterous socialites in their evening wear, and waiters in service black and whites carrying trays of clear-colored drinks. Harry stood at the door, greeting his guests with all his usual amiability. Based on his appearance, it looked like he'd taken a literal page from Mr. Turner's closet; he wore a deep, carmine red jacket, trimmed in black and pants to match.

Harry stiffened noticeably at the sight of them, but his smile didn't falter.

"Ah, Archibald!" he exclaimed, shaking his hand. "I was hoping you'd arrive soon. Lady Colston." He bowed to the lady and placed a quick kiss to her knuckles. "It is a pleasure as always."

"Quite," was all Lady Colston deigned to say. Archibald felt the sharp stab of embarrassment at his mother's cold condescension, but Harry's attention was on Olivia.

"Miss Colston," Harry said, with eyes wide. He gave a short bow, and Olivia returned the gesture with a civil curtsy. Harry's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed what was probably nerves. The knot of guilt in Archibald's stomach tightened. What more had his sister said to affect such a change in his friend?

Harry opened his mouth. A desperate look in his eye betrayed his need to say something more, but before he could get a word in, Daphne Vanderberg and her mother glided up to their group. Daphne was dressed in a pale gown that highlighted the softer parts of her figure to a shocking degree, and Archibald found himself the recipient of her undivided attention.

"Mr. Colston," Daphne cooed with her head tilted coyly towards her shoulder. A chesnut curl swept across the skin at her collar bone. "I see you are admiring my new gown."

Archibald's face flushed with embarrassment at having been caught observing Miss Vanderberg's figure. He cursed the woman for pointing out the fact; the dress dipped shockingly low. If Olivia had dared step out their front door in a dress like that, he would have sent her straight back inside to change. He recovered and, ignoring the bait she'd set, said, "I was only thinking that you might catch cold."

She tilted her head back and laughed, her mouth so wide Archibald had a clear view of her tonsils. "There's no need to concern yourself with my health, Mr. Colston. I was only worried I'd have to return the dress since it failed to make any sort of impression on Mr. De Rosier at all."

A smile jumped onto Harry's lips. "You are a vision, as always, Miss Vanderberg," he said. "You must forgive me, my mind was elsewhere this evening." His eyes flicked to Olivia but only Archibald seemed to notice the tell.

It was clear by the half-hearted smile that De Rosier had been injured by what Olivia said. He'd give her time to cool down, but Archibald vowed that he would make Olivia set things right. He couldn't have this unpleasantness hanging in the air anytime his best friend and sister were in the same room.

Mrs. Vanderberg stepped in and introduced herself to Lady Colston. Archibald's mother was better than cordial — but then again the Vanderberg name was known all across the western world. "If you gentlemen don't mind, we'll take these ladies off your hands," she said, hooking her arm through Lady Colston's. Lady Colston smiled and Archibald had to catch himself before his mouth fell open in shock. To see his mother bordering on pleased with anything or anyone in New York was a miracle in itself.

Daphne took Olivia's arm and guided her away from where she stood frozen at Harry's side. "It's not every day that we get make new friends from across the Atlantic."

Archibald looked to Harry and for a moment it looked like Harry might say "no", but he wiped the panicked look from his face and instead said, "Enjoy the cocktails."

The streets of New York were shockingly quiet when the Colstons climbed into their carriage at the end of the evening. A fresh layer of snow covered the streets, and from somewhere in the city church bells rang out. Archibald listened to the clanging of the familiar carol and recalled Christmas the year before. He'd truly enjoyed the company of Holly Ambrose. Only after her engagement to David Bishop had been announced, did he come to the realization that he never would have made her happy. Though it did bring a smile to his face to know she'd spent a vast amount of her considerable dowry on a new roof for the orphanage — Lady Colston had not been so pleased.

"I like Mrs. Vanderberg," Olivia said, breaking the silence. "Daphne too. She was so kind to introduce us to every lady in the room."

Archibald winced at the mention of Daphne Vnderberg. "I don't know about them."

Olivia laughed, but it was more of a snort than anything. "You're just mad she caught you staring."

"I was not. That dress was far too daring for a young woman her age," he said.

Olivia's lips turned up on one side in a playful smirk. "It was not. She looked marvelous, and besides, it's not your place to comment."

Archibald dug his teeth into his lower lip. "Fine. But as your brother I don't want you taking any cues from her."

Olivia's brows shot up towards her hairline. "Oh really? That might be difficult considering she's taking me shopping on Friday."

"Is that really necessary? You have quite enough dresses."

Olivia shot him a warning glare. "This is me trying. I'm making friends, Archie. Or would you rather me sit at home until I become a spinster?"

"No," he said.

"You'll come around to the Vanderbergs," Lady Colston said confidently. Her lips were drawn into a knowing grin.

Archibald never liked that grin. She'd worn the same grin when she'd informed him of Holly Ambrose's dowery. He shook his head. She really was relentless. "Don't get your hopes up, mother. According to Harry, Daphne has been pursuing him since the day she turned sixteen — her mother too."

"Daphne and Mr. De Rosier?" Olivia asked. There was confusion and the slightest bit of shock written on her face.

Archibald nodded. "It makes sense when you think about it. Daphne has money to spare. Harry has fame, prestige, and some old money ties the Vanderbergs don't. They're practically engaged."

Olivia's gaze fell to her hands as they smoothed and re-smoothed the fur on her muff.

Archibald watched the change in her demeanor. "Livie? What's the matter?"

She looked up and her smile returned, but the light behind her eyes had dimmed. "Nothing. I was just imagining the wedding."

Archibald chuckled. It was just like a girl's mind to go straight to lace, dresses and veils. "Yes, it should indeed be the event of the year when it happens."

Lady Colston straightened in her seat. "I wouldn't hold my breath for an invitation if I were you," she said. "Practically engaged is not engaged." She patted the back of Olivia's hand almost as if to reassure her. Archibald's brow furrowed. Why would Olivia care if Daphne Vanderberg wasn't interested in him? Her concern was touching, and perhaps it came from the desire to have Daphne as a sister-in-law, but she would have to resolve to be disappointed on that front. Chasing a dowry had already landed him with a bruised ego, and he wasn't about to try it a second time. In any case, he wasn't a big enough catch for the likes of a Vanderberg. 

I hope you've liked this chapter! If so, please vote and comment so others can discover it — and it means so much to me to know that you guys are enjoying it! Thank you all so much for reading!

Isn't Archibald so adorably clueless? What do you think will happen when he finds out about Olivia's crush — if he finds out?